The First of Many
by Vexta
Summary: Draco Malfoy, expecting to see Harry Potter for one of their training sessions, is surprised to see Hermione Granger instead. One-Shot, to be used in Fathomless. No-Fluff!


Hello! This is just a short one-shot that has been flying around in my head for weeks. Eventually I plan on using this scene in my other WIP Dramione fic _**Fathomless**_**. **Read, review, and I own diddly-squat!

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**The First of Many**

Looking forward to an afternoon of exertion and adrenaline, Draco was surprised when it was Hermione who greeted him in the case room instead of Harry.

"Where's Potter?" he asked bluntly.

"Harry got called away on Auror business, Shacklebolt's orders. He... he's asked me to step in for him today," Hermione felt shy at the penetrating gaze Draco pinned her with.

"Fine," he said in a bored tone, removing his outer cloak and jacket and transfigured his black slacks into a pair of black jeans.

Hermione, already dressed in comfortable clothing, met him in the woodlands behind his house. She was nervous; she hadn't duelled seriously since the war and she was sure she'd be rusty. Still, she knew her spells back to front, and was quite confident she'd be fine.

"Here's the ground rules. We use _Protego Duo_, semi-permanent and it'll last longer. _Avada _is out, obviously, but _Crucio_ and _Imperio_ is fine. And no Disarming. That's it."

Hermione stood about twenty paces from him, blinking rapidly to adjust to dim lighting in the trees.

"Shield up, Granger."

Nodding in understanding, Hermione muttered a quick _Protego Duo, _yelping when Draco deftly flicked a stunner at her. It caught her shield, making her stumble back several steps and she stared, aghast.

"You didn't count down!" she cried furiously.

He straightened, glaring at her. "I'm a Death Eater trying to kill you, Granger. Do you _really_ think I'm going to fucking _count down_ for the start of a duel? You've got to be kidding me."

Blinking rapidly in understanding, Hermione could only nod in embarassment. "I - okay. Sorr-"

He didn't wait for her to finish her apology before another jet of red light shot towards her and Hermione spun quickly, the jinx missing her face by inches.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione was panting. Sweat dripped freely down her forehead and her eyes stung from the dust and debris their spells had kicked up from the ground. She berated herself crossly for skipping out on Ginny's proffered weekly workouts.

"Keep up, Granger!" Draco yelled through the dust clouds, sending another jet of red light at her.

She deflected most of his attacks masterfully and was quick enough on most occasions to physically evade them completely, but Draco was relentless.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he demanded after some time.

"I... what?" she asked breathlessly.

"I asked," he said, approaching slowly with his wand pointed to the ground as a sign of ceasefire. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Um," Hermione could only stare. "Dueling?"

Draco scoffed in irritation. "Okay, you've already proven that you're proficient with defensive spells," he muttered angrily. "But spell blocking and evasion won't always save your life if your opponent is persistent."

"Why don't you attack back?" he demanded. "Impedimenta and _Stinging_ hexes? Really, Granger, really?"

"They're helpful distractions," she protested weakly, worrying her lower lip. "And I... Well, I don't want to _hurt_ you,"

"Fucking - Merlin's _sake_, Granger!" he hissed. "I feel like you're not taking this seriously! In case you weren't aware, Potter and I have been training because it's to save my _life_. If people are targeting me, I'm sure it'd be lovely to hope that all they'd throw my way are half-arsed _jinxes_!"

"I'm not doing this on purpose, Malfoy!" she retorted, feeling ashamed. Did he really think that she would sabotage their training?

"I'd have thought that you'd relish the opportunity to throw curses at me," he shook his head in disgust

"Well I'm _sorry_ that I wasn't brought up a Death Eater prodigy," Hermione sniffed petulantly. "Not everyone has the instinctive urge to _hurt_ people.

"Yes, and that kind of attitude gets people _killed_," he sneered, towering over her. "News flash, Granger. Life or death, it's kill or _be_ killed."

He was right and she knew it. Why was Hermione so afraid this time? She had been bold and fierce during the war, but this duel had proved nothing except that she was weak.

Was she really? Just because she refused to use dangerous offensive spells against other people, did that make her cowardly? In Hermione's mind, that made her the better person. In Draco's mind, that made her the _dead_ person, and Hermione flinched at the thought.

"I thought you'd provide me with some kind of challenge," he spat. "But I was wrong. Next time, I'm waiting for Potter."

Without another word, he spun on his heel and stormed back to the house.

Hermione was, simply put, offended beyond belief. Had she really just lost this duel? She blinked at his retreating figure, flabbergasted.

Her friends during school had always joked that if she ever faced a Boggart, it would be getting imperfect scores in her N.E.W.T.s. They were right.

Hermione's fear of failure, of _inadequacy_, was almost a tangible thing. Like a smaller, crueller version of herself was always sitting on her shoulder, criticising everything she did. If Hermione wasn't good enough, that endangered her friends. If she wasn't good enough, her friends could _die_.

She felt a hot spurt of anger, remembering his condescending tone, that she just _wasn't good enough_. Hermione strengthened her resolve. She raised her wand and charged at Draco's retreating figure, throwing a curse as she went.

Draco spun as the spell left her lips, easily deflected it and quicker than she could counter, he flung a Stupefy in return. Caught off guard, the spell hit her directly in the chest and she fell, sprawling into the dirt.

If it weren't for the shield charms, Hermione would have copped the full effects of the stunner, but the dampening effect meant that she was only momentarily disoriented.

"Very Slytherin of you to attack when my back was turned," Draco drawled, smirking at her prone body. "But that Gryffindor war cry kind of gave you away."

He revived her before walking away, leaving Hermione lying dejectedly in the woods where the dust from their duel hadn't even settled yet.

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Thanks for reading!


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